The thing you seek, thou art, thou art;
Why then search for what you have not lost?
Searching for what’s not lost, distrust, distrust!
Thou art the letters, names and the book
Prophets and angels your word undertook;
Just sit still, this futile search let go
You are the house, master and foe
Essence and form, celestial and from earth
Always eternal, in death and at birth.
If you want to see the beloved’s face
Polish the mirror, gaze into that space
In these truths, the secrets you weave
Are your punishments, yourselves deceive.
Shams-e Tabrizi, is the world Emperor
Seekers of his grace are behind which door?
This graceful King showers you with gifts
Unbeknownst to you, your souls uplifts.
Translated By: Shahriar Shahriari
April 13, 1998